


Completionism

by Superbeans



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, MMO elements, RPG elements, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superbeans/pseuds/Superbeans
Summary: Futaba may be a bit of a noob when it comes to social things, but this shut-in sure knows what a side quest looks like.Akira isn't so good at persuading her that these things don't happen in real life.





	1. Chapter 1

The air was thick and heavy with late night revellers as two teenagers stepped out of a sweet shop on the Tokyo high street.

"Mmm...!" Futaba Sakura stamped her feet with pleasure as the shop door jingled shut, "the best kind of crepes is more! Ain't that right, Akira-kun?"

"Not at 5,000 yen each they aren't..." her dark haired accomplice arrived next to her. Already lamenting how thin his wallet had gotten, he gave a long, deep sigh.

"Aw, well, thanks for buying me them," Futaba nuzzled him. "You're my go to guy for sugar, got it?"

"Okay..." Akira grimaced. She was going to eat him out of house and home at this rate. Akira adjusted his glasses, and followed after the leggy auburn as she meandered the high street gorging on crepe number fourteen. The fact that her stomach has outlasted his month's worth of savings had cast a tight knot about his navel.

But then again, she was happy. Really happy. Maybe it was just the sugar, but seeing her bounce around the place was a rare pleasure in itself. Despite his best efforts, Akira found himself smiling, watching the puppy-like Futaba charge about manically. Nearby stalls were invaded, their wares plucked, rotated and replaced. Animals were discovered and harassed. Other people... they were scary. They were avoided. Evasion +1 after all. But while the night was still young, Futaba and her endless supply of energy were ready to paint the town-

"Hey, Akira-kun! Wake up!"

Akira's thoughts fuzzed back into solidity, only to find the hermit shaking him.

"Wha? What, what, what's wrong?"

"Looooook!" The stick figure squeaked, her pointing arm a-pointing. "There's a side quest!"

Akira's glasses shone. "Side quest? That's just a cat sitting under a street lamp."

"Nuh-uh!" Futaba and her sugar insisted. "That's a side quest, I'm telling you. Get on my level!"

Akira looked again. Nope, still just a cat. A tortoiseshell to be specific. Although it did sit criminally still, perched under the exact centre of the street lamp's glare.

"Look Futaba, side quests don't happen in this world," Akira tried to explain. "If we go over there and prove it's just a cat, will you-"

Only now did he realise he was talking to a wall. The real Futaba had shot across the street ages ago.

"Ugh..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Futaba, wait up!"

Those crepes were proving quite heavy on his stomach. He had only eaten eight, as opposed to Futaba's fourteen, but as he plodded along after her, the cramps were becoming pretty apparent.

"See see?! Look look look!" Futaba had barely waited for his arrival. "I told ya it's a side quest! This proves it!"

"Futa...ba!" Akira gasped, a hand on his stomach. "I'm telling you, side quests aren't re-"

His eyes locked on the note in her hand;

'I am the spirit of a powerful Hermit Persona. Complete the given tasks to obtain my power'

 

Akira blanched. "You have to be kidding me."


	2. Chapter 2

Two teenagers stared at each other, wide-eyed and bemused. 

"So um... what now?" Futaba adjusted her glasses. "Is there like some kinda clue or something?"

The cat licked its paw, and then lazily strolled off away from the streetlight.

Two pairs of eyes followed after it. "Do we follow the kitty?"

But the feline blinked at the pair of them, and it was gone.

"Okay, so we...  _don't_  follow the kitty." Futaba frowned. "Least I hope not. The note say anything else, Akira-kun?"

"Err..." Akira flipped the note back and forth, upside down and even glanced at it from a sideways angle. But nothing seemed to show up. It was just a scrap of paper after all. It would've been pretty difficult to keep any sort of message hidden. 

"Maybe hold it up to the light?" Suggested Futaba. Akira shrugged, and followed orders, holding the scrap of paper against the light of the street lamp. And as expected, nothing. No weird shadow illuminated on the paper, the ground, or anything.

"Hmm," Futaba mused. "Maybe it's chemical?"

And without warning, the young lady had struck a match, igniting the tiny scrap of paper!

"Wha?!" Akira gasped, shaking the paper vigorously to put out the fire. "Why'd you do that?!" 

"Umm... chemical?" Futaba reiterated. "To see if there's any kinda hidden message? You know, like we were discussing...?"

"But fire?" Akira didn't miss a beat. "...why do you even have matches?"

"The real question is, why don't you have matches?" An impish look shone behind her glasses.

And Akira sighed. This was going to be a very long day. But he obviously wasn't responding fast enough, because Futaba had already snatched the paper from him. 

"Look look look! I knew matches would work!" She trilled in her excitement.

"You mean you guessed and got lucky." Akira's eyebrows rose up high.

"A calculated risk!" Futaba thrust a knowing finger at him. "But either way, it paid off! Now help me read this!"

And two teenagers squashed their faces together, cheek to cheek, in an attempt to decipher the tiny scorch mark of a message.

"Ugh, I don't like Kanji... too pointy." Futaba groaned. "...that look like a Ko to you?"

The pair of them continued to squint at the minuscule markings. How was someone able to mark a scrap of paper this intricately, and then attach it to a cat, in the vaguest of hopes that someone would find it?

"But why is it in Kanji in the first place?" Akira asked. "Ko...hi?"

"Coffee?" Both recited in unison.

\----

All hell had broken loose at cafe Leblanc. Amidst the flying crockery and mess of coffee granules, Sakura Sojiro stood, with his arms folded and beard notably twitched.

"Mind if I ask what you two're doing, destroying my cafe at this hour?" The man's voice was low and dangerous. A saucer frisbeed past his head, and shattered against the wall.

Futaba emptied out a can of coffee onto the floor. "It's super hard to explain, Sojiro! Even if we told you, you wouldn't understand!"

"Mhmm," Sojiro's cheek dimpled. "And I suppose you have plans to tidy up, once you're uhh... finished?"

"O-of course!" Futaba gave him the toothiest smile. "This place'll be so clean, you won't even recognise it!"

A loud, rather animated cough escaped Sojiro. "...well alright then. I'm going home. Make sure you lock up my dirty store once you're done emptying my profits onto the floor. Got that Akira?"

The dark haired boy's glasses flashed. "Sure thing."

And with a grumble, Sojiro stalked off into the night, leaving the two teenagers to their own devices.

"He sounded mad," Futaba tipped out the contents of another coffee can.

Akira threw some into a cup. "I wonder why. Want one?"

"Nuh-uh. I'll take an energy drink if I wanna level up, thank you," Futaba shook the contents of another can around. "It would be better than just wasting it all though..."

So instead of feeding it to the floor, heaps and heaps of coffee was dumped into anything that would hold it, from bowls to dishes to mugs. But still, nothing showed.

"Ugh, this is such a grind..." Futaba fell into a chair. "Any luck your end?"

Akira shook his head slowly, and blew the steam away from his coffee. The sophisticated sting that coated his throat wasn't nearly as satisfiying as one of Sojiro's, but he could gladly say he was getting better at making them. Maybe one day he'll learn the secret. But until then he had something else to choke on.

Emptying his mug, his eyes bulged, and a cough forced him to inhale most of his coffee, resulting in a splutter.

"Geez, you're supposed to drink your coffee, not breathe it!" Futaba teased, only to frown at his flailing beckon. "W-what is it?"

His eyes streamed. His mug still steamed. But at the bottom of it, printed into the leftover coffee grounds, was a letter.

"...O?" Futaba narrowed her eyes. "Wait, now we've gotta figure out stuff in English too?"

"Seems so...!" Akira choked out a response, beating his chest to clear his lungs.

"Well, at least now we know what we're looking for!" Futaba sang. With a spoon and a bowl full of coffee, she instructed. "Fire up the filters! We gotta lotta coffee to make!"

Akira opened up the cupboards, and immediately flinched at the sight. "Uh oh."

"What-oh?" Futaba stirred the coffee next to him. But the bowl slipped from her hands and shattered as she too noticed;

"That's so many...!"

For a moment there, the teens had forgotten themselves, and deluded their minds into thinking that they'd need to make five, maybe ten coffees, and everything would be fine. But no. Life wasn't fair that way.

Futaba gawped at the dozens of gleaming mugs. "There's gotta be fifty cups there!"

"We really can't make that much coffee..." Akira grimaced.

"Aw but... but but, but the quest!" Futaba wrapped her skinny arms around as many cups as they would allow. "There's a super weird mystery, and you just wanna leave it? Enter the final dungeon without all the power ups, Akira-kun?!"

"But fifty cups...?" Akira pleaded.

"Oh, it'll be over before we know it!" Futaba's grin went far past her gaze. "So yeah, let's make a butt load of half-coffees, that way we save time and-"

"No no, we'll have to do it properly," Akira protested. "Maybe the letter won't form if we don't do it the right way."

"Ugh, alright, no shortcuts! We do this the old fashioned way!" A groan escaped Futaba.

Cups among cups among cups of coffee were brewed, steaming hot and rich with aroma. Their dark, silky textures unexplored, Futaba's first mistake was apparent, as the liquid began seething down the drain.

"What're you doing?" Akira asked.

"Well the coffee's been in there for ten minutes now. That's long enough right?" She shrugged. "Should let us see the letter at the- whuh?!"

"Where is it?!"

Futaba flipped the mug upside down and shook it, as if the letter would fall loose. But only drips of coffee spattered the carpet, along with all the other mess. Akira checked the mug himself, and clear as day, there was no letter at the bottom of it.

"You're telling me we've gotta drink all this coffee?" Futaba gulped.

"Looks that way..." Akira pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"W-w-well then! I'll leave you to it, Akira-kun!" A friendly slap to the back.

"Huh?" His gaze dropped. Wasn't she... helping?

"I'll be up all night if I drink this much coffee. So I'll make it, you drink it. Co-operative!"

And Akira's eyes glazed over. The prospect of twenty five cups of coffee was bad enough, especially after all those crepes. But fifty?

Thw golf ball in his throat slipped down to his stomach with a thud. And yet Futaba was already brewing more coffee. What right did he have to argue?

With a shaking hand, Akira raised the first cup to his lips. "A-alright."

Ten cups later, they were barely any closer, having found a U and an F under two more, however eight of this cups remained completely blank, and Akira was already starting to feel ill.

"C'mon, Akira-kun, you can do it!" Futaba was already tapping the filter for the next batch. "These ones'll be ready soon!"

"Yay..." he could feel his stomach retch from the thought of more coffee. Futaba had gained exactly zero of her father's brewing abilities, and what was left in his cup was usually a bitter, sludgy mess.

But once it was cooled enough, down the hatch it went. With every cup the retch became stronger, but they couldn't give up. For the sake of the quest, they had to continue!

"C'mon Akira-kun, half way there!" She announced at cup twenty six. "And we've got five letters now, so we're getting closer!"

An N and a T had been added to their stash, but they were no closer to a full word. F, O, U, N, T. Fountain? Where the hell was the nearest fountain?

Another bitter mess gurgled down his throat. His eyes were wide and staring, and yet devoid.

Futaba swapped his cup out for another. "Ooh, there's an 'E' at the bottom of this one! Another step closer, Akira-kun!"

Well that was fountain screwed. Probably.

But after another twelve cups of coffee, the walls had started talking to him, and they finally unearthed another letter, 'R'.

"F-O-U-N-T-E-R?" Futaba steadied her caffeinated friend. "What's a founter?"

Alira staggered over towards the mess of cups, and watched them giggle at him. There was so much caffeine in his system that he could see lights flashing out of the corners of his eyes, and everything felt just a little too real. His shaking hands grasped at cups, but his brain was struggling to process what to do next. As far as his concentration was concerned, there was a fireworks show in the back of his head, and everything was invited. So as much as he willed it all, flashes and shuffling were the best he could manage.

"S-something wrong. Akira-kun?" Futaba's voice was strangely deep. Akira wrenched his arms and shifted two cups around.

"Ohh, you think it's an anagram? Why didn't ya say so!" Futaba's tiny hands proved far more deft than his right now, swapping the cups around faster than his mind could process it.

"Hmm..." Futaba whirred, in both mind and body. "Route? Nah, that takes all the vowels away. Tuner... of? Makes no damn sense. Turn foe...?"

But her thought train was derailed by Akira's flailing hands, spinning around each other like some possessed yo-yo.

"S-swap them around, Akira-kun?" Futaba frowned. "Err... foe turn?"

"F-f-for..." Akira could process his mind for just long enough to spit out a word.

"For...?" It didn't come instantly. "...tune! For, tune! Fortune! Wait what's that mean?"

Akira rubbed his bloodshot eyes, and swallowed down some of the caffeine that was clouding his brain. "Ch-Chi-"

"Know what Akira-kun? Never mind. We'll figure it out in the morning." Futaba forestalled him. "Mind if I stay here tonight? Sojiro won't mind!"

"S-s-" Akira's mind couldn't process the response in time.

"Sure? Awesome, thanks!" Futaba was already half way up the stairs to his room. 

"S-s...s-weep up first," he finally stammered out. But Futaba had disappeared already. Eyes wide and staring, Akira was alone in a room practically buried in coffee. Once Sojiro expected clean by morning. And that was only three hours away.

The young man staggered upstairs to his room, and found Futaba curled up in a ball on top of his bed, her arms wrapped around an equally asleep Morgana.

Akira struggled over to the futon, and collapsed down on top of it. He was lucky it was a warm night. Hopefully he could get a decent night's rest before Sojiro killed him in the morning. But as the caffeine still percolated through his system, he doubted his chances.

Staring up at the ceiling, a still buzzing Akira listened to the walls and their conversations, as Futaba snoozed across the room.


	3. Chapter 3

There was no point in trying to sleep. The buzzing in Akira's head was so powerful he could've sworn the shadows were talking to him. Futaba managed to sleep peacefully on the other hand, wrapped around Morgana as if  _she_ were the cat. Every mumble-snore she released was like a thousand trucks going past to his overstimulated mind. 

Eyes wide and staring, Akira forced his body back downstairs. At least if Sojiro didn't kill him later, he could die from sleep deprivation instead. A moral victory.

Upon actually getting down the stairs, it was hard not to change his mind again. Coffee granules crunched under his first footsteps onto the lino floor.

"Ugh..." the young man sighed. Why did he sign up for this again?

It was too late to go on strike now. Sojiro was due in two hours, and it would be a shame to die after all the good he's done. So he swept. And he washed dishes. And he picked up broken ones, why did Futaba throw them...

What felt like eons later, the last dustpan of dirty coffee granules was tipped away. His stomach still lurched from the thought of coffee as he collapsed into one of the booths, but it was with that retch that Akira realised he'd finished with just moments to spare. So it looked like he wasn't getting much sleep today. At least Futaba was a late riser, meaning he could probably go take a nap before-

"M-mornin', Akira-kun!"

Akira's bloodshot eyes burst open. Of course. The one time she woke up early. 

Stood at the bottom of the stairs, drowned in one of Akira's oversized hoodies and smiling toothily, was the source of his sleep deprivation.

"I'm borrowin' this for a little while, okay Akira-kun? It spoke to me." She practically glowed with pride as she shuffled in opposite him and hugged her knees. "You sleep well?"

With his wide, staring eyes and expressionless face, Akira found the strength to twist his neck left, then right.

"Aw really? Bummer, me neither. It's hard to get any good sleep in someone else's bed huh? Talk about energy -1..."

Akira opened his mouth in an attempt to respond, but a metallic jangling at the main door had his fate sealed. 

Whistling tunelessly, Sojiro let himself into the building. Instantly his arms were folded, and the man gave his dirty little store a good look-over.

"Well I'll be, you actually got it sorta clean," he grumbled. Dropping his hat onto a nearby hook, he noticed the pair of them in the booth. "Don't you look like crap. Weren't up all night were ya?"

"Of course he wasn't, Soji-ro!" Futaba leapt to his defence.

"Uh huh," the skinny man tousled his beard. "And you felt the need to stay over because...?"

"Because I live here too!" Futaba's giant glasses shone in protest. "...technically."

Sojiro opened up a few cupboards and grimaced. "...will I have any reason to be disappointed in you both?"

Both teens just shared a confused look.

"Never mind, I know enough," he dismissed it all with a wave of the hand. "Go on you two, get outta here and enjoy your day. Leave the old man to himself. But I want you back to help with the evening rush, got it Akira?"

Akira squinted tiny eyes at his temporary landlord. With 'help' from Futaba, he found the strength to nod. Before he could so much as react however, Futaba was already dragging him away and out the door. Sojiro's eyes stalked after the pair of them, and he shook his head, "...kids."

Meanwhile Akira had been dragged half a block away before his kidnapper realised,

"Wait... where are we going, Akira-kun?"

The young man shook her hand away, and straightened himself back out again. He rubbed at his eyes, and not unlike one of those old school radios, slowly focused his mind with it.

"F-f-fortune," he stammered.

"Well yeah, but that could be anything!" Futaba's impatience shone through. "C'mon Akira-kun," she shook her partner in crime, "think of the quest!"

And for every shake Futaba gave him, Akira's mind was soaked in caffeine once again, to the point where he was just seeing sounds.

"Hang o, shaking probably doesn't help," Futaba stopped abruptly. "You're not a loot crate, you're a senpai. And senpais don't respond well to getting shaken..."

So she resorted to poking instead. "Fortune, fortune, where do we find, a fortune?"

Every prod to his cheek sent more colours rippling across Akira's mind. His eyes were bloodshot and staring at the skies above. He found the strength to claw at his brow with one hand. Come on now, focus...

Futaba's prodding was not helping. Every badly timed poke reshuffled his already scattered thoughts, making it harder by the moment.

"Chi!" He suddenly burst out, even if it was to stop Futaba from poking him more. "Chi...ch-ch...!"

"...cheese?" Futaba stabbed in the dark. "I don't think we'll get far with lucky cheese, Akira-kun."

"Nnnnno!" Akira shook his head fervently. "Chihaya!"

"Chihaya?" Futaba's glasses slipped. "I-is that a person or a thing or a place?"

And with the determination of a thousand seagulls pursuing a slice of bread, yet the mobility of a feeble old lady, Akira Kurusu forced himself forwards. After two train tickets to Shinjuku and about an hour of aimless staggering, the pair of them were in the company of another acquaintance.

"Ohh, I see..." she clutched at her dark headband, eyes closed in concentration. "I see, wealth! I-in your future! But it looks... dirty?"

She rotated a selection of tarot cards on the stall in front of her. "O-ohh... your wealth is obscured by an abundance of smoke!" She scooped up her cards, and gave her 'client' a very serious look. "Please don't do anything reckless."

The client clicked a lighter on and off in his hands, "you got it lady," and stalked away into the night.

"...I think I might've just encouraged him to burn his house down," the blonde gulped.

The fog in his mind seeming to clear away, Akira coughed to make his presence known.

"Akira-kun?!" She jumped. "Don't just appear like that! You should talk or something!"

"And betray my enigmatic image?" Akira took a seat opposite her and smirked. 

"Mhmm..." Chihaya gave a slow nod. "And you're wanting a reading...?"

"You're the psychic," Akira's eyebrows bounced.

"W-well, sometimes..." she stammered in response. "Either way, give me a second to shuffle. Also who's the girl?"

"The quest..." Futaba had been repeatedly whispering into his ear for the past few minutes. However, she squeaked in surprise at her sudden address.

"Think of her as a... consultant," Akira choked down a yawn. Wow, this caffeine couldn't make up its mind.

"Hmm. Well consult away," Chihaya gave a polite smile. Her dexterous and practiced fingers shuffled the cards in her hand at a blinding speed. She'd cut the pack, then shuffle them together again with the cliched if satisfying 'zzzzzip!', then somehow rotate a selection of cards in the middle of the pack, and then split and merge them again. Suddenly, ten cards were placed atop the table at lightning speed, with four facing Akira, and six arranged into a cross shape, with the central two overlapping each other.

"A-alright, let's hope this works..." Chihaya grimaced. "Pick three, got it Akira-kun?"

Akira kneaded his forehead, as the ringing had started to come back. "S-s-sure."

But as his twitchy hands hovered closer to the cards on the table, he noticed something a little... off, about them.

"Huh?" He grunted, resting his head parallel to the table and piecing together a clue. Suddenly his shaky hands had shot for the cards, and Chihaya squealed with disdain as the young man began rearranging her cards!

"A-Akira-kun?! What're you doing?!" She yelped. "You'll corrupt the reading!"

"J-j-just a moment...!" Akira managed to stammer out, lining up the cards in a brick pattern. His cell phone was extracted, and the brightness maximised. "...look."

Futaba and Chihaya joined him at his oblique angle. For a moment the pair simply frowned in confusion, but shining against the light of his phone was a pattern.

"Is that a... skull and crossbones?" Futaba seemed a bit too excitable for someone seeing such a macabre image. "Wh-what does that mean? Is it another part of the quest?!"

"And how did they do that to my precious cards?" Chihaya took her time in rearranging them back to their original place. "I keep them locked up tight and everything..."

Her hand clenched into a fist, but didn't bang into her stall. Because that would upset the cards again, and they'd been moved around enough for one day. Abruptly, Akira stood up from his seat, and emptied a mound of coins from his pockets. "H-here."

"You know where we're going?!" Futaba squeaked! "Yesss! Next level!"

"Wait!" Chihaya stalled them both. "Before you run off... at least let me do the thing you paid me for?"

With another fluttery wave of her hand, she forced a professional smile and reiterated, "...p-pick three cards?"

Akira glanced over the ten or so cards on the table, and pondered. Was this really a good time to tempt fate?

"C'mon Akira-kun!" Futaba's attempts to drag him away were failing miserably. "The quest! The quessssssst! Leave the bard! She's no use!"

Chihaya's professional concentration broke for a millisecond at Futaba's 'comment', and gestured to her cards again. "Please?" She offered the smile that put the sun to shame.

"Umm..." Akira puzzled. Futaba was practically using her entire body weight to rip his arm off, and his head was still pounding from the coffee. The pain was thudding through his system like a bass drum full of needles. 

He frowned, and pinched his nose with his one free hand. With a groan of pain, he jabbed at three cards on the table, "t-there!"

"Ooh, yay!" Chihaya giggled, and quickly scooped up the suspects. "Alright, it says here you'll-"

But a glance, and he was gone. That orange haired girl must've succeeded in dragging him away at last. "Oh no...!" Chihaya gulped, and shakily lowered the threee offending cards back onto her table;

The Six of Cups, Five of Swords, and Two of Pentacles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's an update. A bit short and sweet as always, but hopefully entertaining. Sorry it took so long. I was a bit lost as to what to do next, and had a whole bunch of other fics to update. But I know what to do on the next chapter already, so hopefully it'll be up quicker.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading my crap. Feel free to guess who they're visiting next. Over and out. :3


	4. Chapter 4

“Through many trials had the heroes suffered, only to be tested further. Their quest took them to the mystical land of Yongen-Jaya, and - okay Akira-kun, I’m drawin’ a blank. Why’re we back here exactly?”

Akira took off his glasses, and wiped them against the hem of his tee. The caffeine in his system was still pulsing, making it all but impossible to focus. It was only so long before he crashed, he just knew it. But that wasn’t going to satisfy Futaba. Not as long as this dumb quest thing was still active. What about when he had to do other things? He couldn’t just blow Sojiro off for this... right?

”...d-doctors,” the young man stammered out, raising a weary hand at a nondescript blue building on the street corner.

”That’s a doctors?” Futaba squinted at it. “Looks super shady, Akira-kun. Stealth mode?”

While he staggered towards the indicated building like a caffeinated zombie, Futaba crept among the shadows, peeking out from behind things like bushes, bicycles and him. Steadying himself, Akira knocked four times at the door, slumping against it for good measure. His balance was tested again when it cracked open a little, and two sharp eyes stared out at him.

”...oh it’s you, guinea pig. Come in, come.”

Several chains and locks rattled as the door was slowly unlocked, and Akira had to steady himself against the adjacent wall to avoid falling across the threshold. 

“Wooow...” Futaba marvelled at it all. “I didn’t know you knew a healer, Akira-kun!”

”...doctor,” the blue-haired woman folded her arms. “Who’s the hamster?”

”Hey, I am not a hamster! They’re goofy and slow!” Futaba instantly protested. “Consider chinchilla?”

”...fine by me,” the blue-haired woman shrugged. “So yeah, remember that little promise we made about confidentiality, Aki-“

She frowned at Akira, noticing that the lad wasn’t quite his normal self today. “...what’s up with him?”

Futaba remained quiet. So the blue-haired woman sighed pointedly, extracted a torch from... somewhere, and flashed the light into Akira’s eyes. The pupil reacted, but the host did not.

”...Alright, I think I gotcha,” she muttered. Her torch was placed down on a desk, and instead she rummaged around countless pill bottles. Drawers of pill bottles. Table tops of pill bottles. Pocketfuls of pill bottles. Cupboards of pill bottles. Secret hidey holes full of pill-

“Aha, here we are,” she spoke with all the enthusiasm of a funeral director. “Down the hatch, guinea pig.”

Akira was unresponsive as a jellybean shaped pill was crammed down his throat, followed by a ‘helping’ of water. The young man spluttered and coughed in a feeble attempt at a reaction, but barely moments after that pill had tumbled into his stomach, did he feel the clouds in his head start to disperse. Akira found the strength to rub his eyes, as the reverberating colours slowly faded away, like ripples in a pool.

”Ungh,” he clutched at his head. “W-what the?”

“Caffeine disperser. You’re welcome,” the blue-haired woman folded her arms.

”Th-thanks, Akemi-san,” Akira mumbled. “T-too much coffee last n-“

”Forget about that Akira-kun!” Futaba shook him. “The quest! We gotta continue with the quest!”

Akira groaned. “...I was trying to tell her about it.”

”She doesn’t need details!” Futaba glared at Akemi. “Hero sidekick confidentiality, remember?!”

”Uh huh,” Akemi clicked her tongue. “Well, I’ll just be over there...”

The doctor turned on one heel, and took a seat in her spinny chair. “Remember to see me once you’re done with this ‘quest’, got it guinea pig?”

”S-sure,” Akira adjusted his glasses. Was it the last of the caffeine, or was she especially on edge this morning?

Then again, she did have two kids invading her private practice in the morning. He was lucky enough she wasn’t hungo-

“The quest, Akira-kun!” Futaba shook him about again.

”That’s really not helping,” he muttered.

”Well what else am I supposed to do?” She flailed at him.

”...look for the clue?”

”But I’m the leader!”

”Wait, I’m the sidekick?!”

”Of course! Who here has the charm and persuasive ability?!”

”That lamp over there!”

”...well it is lovely, but-“

”-much as I Love this quarrel of yours...” The two were interrupted by Akemi, spinning back around in her chair. “D’you mind doing it... somewhere else?”

Both teens were silenced as Akemi unfolded her arms, and gripped the rests of her chair. “Because some of us here have to be responsible adults, and sadly I am one of them. So unless you’ve got some business for me, I suggest that...”

Akemi’s sentence dissolved away as she noticed not one, but both teenagers staring at her chest. “...I’m not sure what you two’re up to, but it’ll cost ya.”

Akira looked up at last, “n-no no, nothing weird.”

”We just saw your shirt, and thought that maybe-“ Futaba bounced off of him.

”-except it isn’t, because that’s the kinda thing you normally wear,” Akira deterred her.

”But still, it’s like the only thing that’s outta place in here!” Futaba pleaded. She shot a glance at the bottle in the corner, “...besides the Shochu.”

“Well either way,” Akemi sat up slowly. “You kids wanna stare at my ‘shirt’ s’more? Because some of us are doctors with respon-“

”Pretty weird thing for a shirt to say, huh Akira-kun?”

”Not for her,” Akira shook his head. “I’ll bet she’s got five more just like this.”

”It’s like I’m not even here!” The doctor protested between them.

”Aw c’mon, how many people wear shirts that say ‘punch yourself in the face’?” Futaba challenged.

”She does!” Akira cried.

”W-Well there’s only one way to find out!” A nervous laugh escaped Futaba. She glanced at her dainty little hands, flexed the knuckles and gulped.

”Hey, no no, wait,” Akira saw the danger signs. “Don’t do this! You’ll hurt y-“

”FOR THE GOOD OF THE QUEST!” Futaba shrieked, and there were three separate cries of varying emotion as Futaba’s dainty hand launched into Akira’s face.

”Nngh...!” The young man spluttered. “Gods! Your fingers are like knives!”

”Sorry Akira-kun, but it was totally necessary!” Futaba’s ‘apology’ was short lived and violent. “Now bleed damn you. Bleeeed...!”

”H-Hey, this is a sterile environment!” Akemi was already complaining. But as blood dripped down from Akira’s nose into the lino floor, three pairs of eyes widened in surprise.

”...oh,”

”A-ha!”

”Ungh...”

”Great work, Akira-kun!” Futaba let go of his nose, and instead pat him on the head. “The pattern will soon be rev- aww, dammit. We’re gonna need more blood here! Akira-kun, if you would?”

”N-n-nope,” Akira’s voice was muffled by his hand. White as a sheet with a vivid stream of crimson running down from his nose, he’d probably bled enough for one day.

”B-but where are we gonna yet more blood?” Futaba sounded despondent. “There’s only like, a weeny bit of a pattern here!”

Akemi tutted audibly. “Fine...”

Grabbing a box of tissues and pushing them at Akira, she stepped over the mess on the floor. “If it’ll get you kids outta here, I’ll get you some damn blood. Type, guinea pig?”

”...A.” Akira glubbed through his mound of tissues.

”Got it,” the doctor deadpanned. Into a side room she disappeared, with all manner of metallic items clattering about as she apparently searched.

”Right,” she reappeared after a few moments, blood pack in hand. “I do this, you two disappear. Got it?”

Two teenagers nodded back at her.

”Can’t believe I’m doing this...” she groaned, opening the blood pack and emptying the contents onto the floor. “You kids know how expensive this stuff is?”

”We vastly appreciate your morbid inquisition!” Futaba exclaimed.

”...right,” Akemi mumbled.

”Tha’s abou’ as cloath to a thank you ath you’re gonna gep,” Akira spike through his bloodied tissues. “Am I... spoth to thill be bleeding?”

“Well that pill I gave you also thins the blood,” Akemi shrugged. “So punching you in the nose probably wasn’t the best - oh look  a pattern!”

”Oh?” 

Three pairs of eyes stared at the mess on the floor; two lidded, one glittering. Some chemical had been poured onto the floor to repel the blood, revealing a circle pattern with several lines radiating out from it.

”What is that supposed to be?” Futaba's glasses were shining, and her grin was on full tilt.

“Not a,” Akemi dismissed the situation. “But hey. My bit’s over. You can disappear now.”

”Once we figure out where we’re going next!” Futaba protested.

Akemi groaned again. It was obvious. It was really freaking obvious. How much of a hermit do you have to be to not recognise the-

“Thunn!” Akira glubbed through his tissues.

Futaba frowned at him. “Akira-kun, I don’t care what you say, that does not look like a thumb. Some mighty superhero thumb of power, maybe...? But-“

Akira removed his tissues, and took in a deep breath. “...sun.”

”Sun?!” Futaba gawped at him. “Well that makes a lot more sense! C’mon let’s go already!”

”Right, you’ve got your answer,” Akemi span around to address them both. “Now I suggest you get the f-“

Her eyes bulged.

With a whoosh, her door slammed shut. They were already gone.

”...oh,” she couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Probably shoulda got them to help clean up or something. Good goin’, Tae.”

Takemi groaned. Now she was going to have to do this all herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Here’s an update. I noticed at the last moment that I mistook Takemi, and Akemi. So I’ve gotta correct that at some point. 
> 
> Either way, hope it won’t be too much of a distraction. I know what I’m doing for the next chapter so it shouldn’t take too long either. But NaNo is here, so don’t expect miracles.
> 
> Alright, thanks for reading. Feel free to leave feedback if you’ve got a minute. Thanks again! :)


	5. Chapter 5

Futaba had already dragged Akira halfway across Yongen-Jaya in her excitement. Still clutching a handful of tissues to his face, the young man was otherwise occupied. Meanwhile Futaba was dashing about like a lost rabbit in the pursuit of ‘clues’.

”Sun, sun... what represents the sun?! Akira-kun, you know any-“

The arm she was tugging at had gone limp. Futaba turned back, ready to glare at this stupid idiot for slowing her down, but despite it all...

”Oh, Akira-kun...”

With a short sigh, she let his arm fall, and folded hers. She couldn’t be mad at him for this. After all, it was probably her own f-

...no, she shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to start pointing fingers. Akira-kun was white as a sheet, slumped against a wall in central street and barely conscious. Maybe someone needed a nap...

”Alright Akira-kun, I hear ya loud and clear...” Futaba’s voice was hollow. She regret letting his hand go already, because it had become a lead weight since.

”C’mon, c’mon...” she grunted, tugging at his unresponsive body. Two heavy legs slowly shuffled after her, desperately slow as the pair inched towards a nearby  bench. It was better than a wall at least.

”You can’t say I don’t take care of you now, huh Akira-kun?” Futaba smirked, squatting down onto the bench in all its uncomfortable...ness. With some gentle encouragement, Akira fell into the bench beside her. The blood under his nose had finally dried, but his eyes were mere pinpricks now. 

The young man made some attempt at talking, but was just met with a fervent shushing from Futaba.

”Don’t worry about it Akira-kun, it’s alright. Just you take a nap now, okay?”

Akira gurgled out some kind of response, but apparently didn’t need telling twice. Before Futaba could even adjust for his weight against her, he was already snoring gently.

She adjusted her glasses, and glanced around. Now what? With the sun already setting, she couldn’t help but wonder just how much longer this quest was going to go on for. One more clue? Five more clues? Ten more clues?!

Futaba groaned. Her head was swimming from all this fresh air and nature. She already missed the musty, machiney tang of her bedroom, with its whirring computer fans and blinky dials. The snoring sack of potatoes next to her was barely worth all this stress. Escort missions were a drag at the best of times, but these stupid tiny pants pockets didn’t even grant her the basic luxury of a handheld. 

She was never going to catch all the nekomon at this rate. After staring blankly at passers by for a solid minute and a half, Futaba conceded with a sigh; it was time for the backup backup plan.

Akira’s dead weight on her right made things all the more difficult, but she was able to wiggle a hand into he pants pocket and extract her battered old phone. The screen had cracked on one side, and made her screensaver of that ice lady from Underseek look like she’d broken both of her legs, but it still sorta worked?

Only six months left on the contract though, so the cracks were tolerable. It wasn’t like it made any difference with Jumpy Chick anyway. That was all just a matter of tapping at the screen in rhythm until you died. It was so easy it was almost painful.

Her Jumpy Chick smacked into a pipe and crashed out of the sky however, when the phone suddenly vibrated, and a messsge from the Phantom Thieves’ chat group thing popped up and got entirely in the way. Oh yeah. Them.

’Hey there!’ 

-Skull, 17:44:46

’Anyone seen Joker today? Dude just up and disappeared!’

-Skull, 17:45:03

 

Suddenly Futaba’s phone was rife with messages. Welp, so much for staying offline and under the radar. It was just barely more interesting than Jumpy Chick, she supposed.

’Nope, haven’t seen him’

-Panther, 17:45:19

‘Why? Is there a reason to be worried or something?’

-Queen, 17:45:21

’Nah, it’s nothin’ serious. I just wanted to catch a movie with him, but he hasn’t responded to my texts for like, the past day’

-Skull, 17:45:52

’Ooh, a movie? What movie?’

-Noir, 17:46:04

‘THAT. It’s this thing about a creepy man eatin’ clown thing, and I kinda wanted to watch it with someone’

-Skull, 17:46:32

’I suppose it wouldn’t be wise to go and see a horror film alone’

-Fox, 17:46:38

’Heh, I guess not. But they’re only showin’ it for a couple more days, and I wanted to catch it you know?’

-Skull, 17:47:05

’I’ll watch it with you! When are you available? I’m free all day tomorrow?’

-Noir, 17:47:22

’...we’re gettin’ sidetracked here! So none of you have seen Joker today? Ain’t that a bit worrying?’

-Skull, 17:47:44

’I’m sure he’d say if he was going to do something dangerous, so don’t worry about it Skull’

-Panther, 17:48:10

’Speaking of which, I’ve not heard much from Oracle either’

-Fox, 17:48:24

’Unless she needs something from you, you probably won’t’

-Queen, 17:48:40

 

Futaba’s phone was about to earn another screen crack. After all the intelligence she had provided, all the support she had given in battle, they still saw her like that? Cold and standoffish? 

Her glasses glinted. She was going to show them.

’Mm. Perhaps they’re together?’

-Fox, 17:48:58

’Wait, together, not talking, somewhere secret?’

-Queen, 17:49:11

’I don’t like those implications’

-Queen, 17:49:23

A wide grin began to snake across Futaba’s face. So jealousy was her game, was it? Futaba limbered up her texting fingers, and delved in;

’I know right? It’s almost as bad as talking about someone behind their back!’

-Oracle, 17:49:35

Suddenly there was a striking lack of messages sent. Futaba cleared her throat quietly and smirked to herself.

’...’ the messenger buzzed. Any second now...

’Hey there Oracle! Been there long?!’

-Queen, 17:51:04

’Yup’

-Oracle, 17:51:09

’I especially enjoyed the bit where it says I won’t contact any of you unless I need something!’

-Oracle, 17:51:18

Another delicious silence. Akira continued to snore obliviously against her shoulder, and she could almost feel the tension in he chatroom.

’I didn’t mean it like that’

-Panther, 17:51:42

’Hey, that’s kinda unfair. You really do come across that way sometimes’

-Skull, 17:51:44

’Dammit Skull...!’

-Panther, 17:51:48

’Sorry!’

-Skull, 17:51:51

Futaba chuckled devilishly to no one. This was turning into quite the mess!

’Look, I don’t say stuff often ‘cause I don’t have much to say. Not because I don’t wanna talk to you’ her fingers practically blistered the screen, they were tapping so fast.

’I’m not all that sociable, we all know that. But that’s just who I am. I like video games, you guys like parties. We’re different, and that’s okay. Would’ve thought you’d have all accepted that by now’

More luxuriant silence. The tension was so thick Futaba could practically taste it. Welp, time to wrap it up, she supposed.

’Anyway, to answer your original question, yes. Joker is here with me. Draw whatever conclusions you wish’

Before anyone could respond, Futaba dropped her phone back into her pocket. Being the troll was occasionally fun, she had a private little chuckle.

But that whole bored thing reared its ugly head again, and all too quickly if she was completely honest with herself. Passers by paid the two of them no heed thankfully, but it didn’t help her at all. Akira was still dead to the world, and now she couldn’t even use her phone because of all the strife she’d just stirred up. Futaba groaned, and tenderised her cheek with her free hand. This was a productive way to spend the evening...

Eventually, after several stealthy prods to the head, did Akira rise from his slumber. Glancing around all confused and cross eyed like a lost kitten, the young man fell back into a sitting position on the bench, and stretched out his limbs.

”...whuh?”

Futaba couldn’t help but laugh. “About time you woke up, Akira-kun.”

Most of her right side had gone numb thanks to Akira’s dead weight lying on it, she staggered off of the bench and stomped the pins and needles out of her leg.

”So,” she cricked her neck. “Ready to set off again, sleepyhead?”

Akira took off his glasses, shook his head, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “... what were we doing again?”

”The quest, Akira-kun!” Futaba gave him a shake, “Remember? The thing with the cat and all the weird clues, and we pissed off Sojiro, then saw this fortune teller lady and a doctor, and now there’s something to do with the sun?”

”Sun?” Akira mumbled blearily. “...oh. So it wasn’t all a dream.”

”Nope! Super real!” Futaba smiled. All this politeness was starting to hurt. “N-now what could the sun mean, Akira-kun? Is it another person? Like... one that’s nearby?”

Akira nodded, and fumbled for his phone. “Man, how long was I out?”

”About half an hour!” Futaba answered immediately, and then snapped that pesky phone shut again. “Now c’mon, let’s go find the next person!”

 Akira snorted. “...he’s over there.”

Futaba’s scowl crested almost as quickly as Akira could raise a pointing finger towards station square.

”What?! The next clue was right there all this time?! Why’d you pick now to take a nap?!”

Akira’s gaze narrowed. “...so are we doing this, or...?”

Futaba met his gaze, but then felt the urgent need to instead stare at her feet. With another scowl, she buried her hands in her pockets, and stalked over towards station square.

———

“Now, if I could get your attention for just a moment...” 

The portly man faltered. Waving his arms around in some attempt at garnering attention, his efforts were looking about as fruitful as the empty box he was standing on. He dabbed at his forehead, readjusted his combover, straightened out his hideous green suit again, and took in a deep breath for another vain attempt.

He didn’t even notice the two teenagers approach him.

”I-it is very important, in this day and age, to take care of that which we uhh... care about.” The portly man continued obliviously, with the grand gestures and the profuse sweating. Of all the passers by, all he was getting was an occasional raised eyebrow.

Futaba included.

”...this is our sun?” She scoffed.

”Yep. Probably.” Akira said. His already strained smile was tested further as the portly man turned away from them both. Futaba rolled her eyes and looked somewhere else, while Akira groaned. The standard ‘kick me’? How very American.

He barely noticed as Akira made the effort to remove it.

”O-oh, is that you, young Kurusu-san?” The man stammered, turning to find the messy haired teen staring intently at a scrap of paper in his hands. “A-hah, I’m afraid you’ve caught me at less than my best today. How are you, boy? You’re looking... tired.”

”Got it in one, Yoshida-san,” Akira forced down a yawn. “Also someone stuck this to you.”

Futaba crept in from Akira’s right, “Is that our clue?!”

”Maybe,” Akira hissed back, as Yoshida scanned the scrap of paper he’d been given. The creases on his forehead multiplied, but then his eyes lit up;

“Bend the way you think, and learn to fly...?”

A smile touched at the man’s face for the first time in a while. Ten years fell from his complexion as he took a step down from his soapbox, and took in another lungful of fresh, filthy city air.

“Y-yes!” His voice actually had  some volume to it this time. “Protecting what’s important! That’s what being a person is about. We as a species strive to surround ourselves with the things with love, because we equate that with happiness! And I couldn’t agree more! After all, we-“

Yoshida’s newfound inspiration had him stepping toward station square, attracting more and more gazes by the minute. But for every new double take he garnered, Akira and Futaba were only more confused by it all.

”...so where’s the clue?” Futaba asked immediately.

“Not sure,” Akira frowned. “Let’s look around. Maybe that note meant something...”

”Bend the way you think...” Futaba was flapping her arms at the elbows, like some kind of half asleep bird. “How does bending make you fly, Akira-kun?”

“I’m really hoping it’s a metaphor for... something.” He responded. He’d picked up the only physical clue he could find - Yoshida-san’s soapbox - and was inspecting it from all angles, because what else was there to go on? 

Futaba was still just flapping uselessly after all. She was obviously going to take credit for all of this once he’d figured it out, Akira reasoned with a sigh.

The faded company brand was printed literally everywhere on this box. Some rural tofu company apparently. The wear and tear looked like it belonged to, with typical fraying in corners and everything. But all these other markings looked suspicious. Faded and dark like the brandings, but these ones broke the corners of the corners and took definite shape.

”Hmm,” Akira mused, “what if there’s...”

There was a sudden tipping noise as the young man began tearing it open. A simple box wasn’t going to hold a full grown man, so there must’ve been something inside it.

Or at least that’s what he was telling himself. It made all of this seem a bit less crazy. 

“Ooh, have you found something?!” Futaba immediately pounced. Akira peeled back the tabs on the box, and tipped out a solid block of wood. It fell to the concrete with a loud ‘tonk!’, but no one seemed to notice over Yoshida’s speech, which was in full, confident swing now.

”When Icarus, of Greek mythology, wanted to fly, what did he do?” He asked of his crowds. Arms out either side of him, he smirked. “Yes, that’s right. He made his own wings! Now, things ended badly for the poor lad, but his message speaks volumes! If you have the ambition and the desire, all it takes to achieve great things is a little... effort! And that’s why I-“

”Icarus...?” Akira’s mind began buzzing again. But not from caffeine this time. Bend the way you think, and learn to fly. Icarus learned to fly. By making himself some wings. An empty cardboard box was definitely not wings, he deflated slightly. But these markings on the corners...

”A-ha!” He cried, and started flattening out the box. Futaba simply stared at him as he began tugging at the corners of the thing, pulling them into strange positions.

”...alright, I don’t get it,” she eventually conceded. “What are you doing?”

”Learning to fly,” Akira responded, folding a corner of cardboard over itself.

”Aw c’mon, even baldy over there isn’t that vague!” Futaba protested, with a complementary arm thrown towards Yoshida. “How is a box gonna help you fly?”

Akira’s glasses sparkled. With a slight grin, the young man folded one last tab, and presented his masterpiece.

”Metaphorically!”

Futaba actually had to take her glasses off and clean them. “...that’s the worst crane I’ve ever seen, Akira-kun.”

”You wanna make a better one?” He pushed the thing at her.

”Oh, Gods no,” Futaba waved it away. “Screw making a super pretty crane. Solving the puzzle’s the important thing. So what now?”

Akira groaned, and looked back to his box crane. It certainly wasn’t the best crane in existence, thanks to the stupid thick cardboard. But above all, it pained him to realise the none of the markings matched up. Back to the drawing board, he sup-

“But Icarus made a mistake. He got too ambitious, and paid the price!”

Yoshida was still rambling on about that Icarus thing. Still.

“Sometimes the most important things are simple! And that’s why I, if elected, can promise-“

...simple? Was that the solution? Was he just overthinking it all?

Given the situation, it was hardly a stretch. He and Futaba were being dragged across Tokyo thanks to a bunch of cryptic hints given to them by a cat. Nothing was a surprise any more.

”Okay, simple...” he muttered, unfolding his box crane and flattening it out again. Cranes were too complicated. What was a simpler thing that could fly...?

Akira wracked his brain, and noticed the sheet of paper in Yoshida’s hands. It had been stuck to his back like some cliche in an old American TV sitcom. Just like...

With a gasp, the lightbulb clicked. The box was folded in half, going with the grain, then the top two corners were folded inwards to meet at the halfway point. Those sections were folded again, once inwards, and once outwards. And with a little tweaking, his cardboard plane was completed.

”A plane?” Futaba cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “You sure that’s what we’re after?”

Akira pointed to the pattern splashed across the two wings of the plane, “positive.”

It was an almost pentagon sort of shape, with a symbol in katakana in the centre of it. 

“...so what’s it mean?” Futaba deadpanned. Akira opened his mouth, but his response was drowned out by Yoshida’s cheering crowds. A storm of deafening applause followed, and the portly politician took a polite bow.

”Thank you, thank you all! You’re too kind!” He beamed. “I shall happily answer any and all questions!”

Futaba shook Akira back to reality. “C’mon Akira-kun! The quest! We gotta get back to the ques-“

”Futaba!”

Futaba froze instantly. Akira’s box plane squashed to the ground as he stood up, and sighed at her.

”Look...” he groaned. “We can’t just keep doing this all day, all night. We have lives, responsibilities! Well, maybe you don’t...”

Futaba averted her gaze.

”But I promised your dad I’d help him tonight, remember? And I need a rest, dammit! Half an hour’s sleep over two days isn’t enough!”

Futaba had physically withdrawn into herself by this point. Her already huge eyes were dilated and quivering. That was enough.

”S-sorry,” Akira mumbled. “I didn’t mean to... d-didn’t-“

But then Futaba stood up again, as if nothing had happened.

”Don’t worry about it, Akira-kun. You’re probably right after all,” she smiled. “Let’s both get a good night’s rest, and continue where we left off tomorrow, huh? I-if you’re feeling up to it, that is...”

Yoshida’s new fan club was still applauding him heartily, so the two awkward teens in the midst of if went all but unnoticed.

”I’ll umm... I’ll just go now.” Futaba stammered. “Seeya tomorrow, maybe?”

Before Akira could raise a hand to stop her, the leggy auburn had disappeared into the crowds. With a twitch and a mutter, he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he didn’t handle that as well as he could’ve.

With a sigh, Akira gave Yoshida his farewell, and retired to Cafe Leblanc for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there people. Here’s an update. A bit messy, but longer than the other chapters. That’s good, right?
> 
> Also I’m considering speeding through the rest of the quest things because of plot. Would you guys like that, or are the actual puzzle bits worth reading? Feel free to send an answer, and any other kind of feedback, in a review if you’ve got a moment. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Hey there guys. Just a quick question; how much do you care about the sections of this side-quest, i.e. the meet one of the confidants, solve some obscure puzzle, rinse repeat etc?

Because I’m considering just finishing the fic with a fight scene thing, and was wondering which you’d prefer?

Feel free to comment your preference. I’ll prpbably just do the latter if no one responds. Over and out.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. Partly inspired by the infamous 'trading' episode that comes up in a lot of major cartoon series, I figured I'd combine it with Futaba's wonderful habit of confusing real life and fantasy, and thus the first chapter was born.
> 
> Bear with me, as I am just a fledgling in the persona fandom, but I'll try my best to keep it entertaining. :3


End file.
